On The Outskirts
by donnersun
Summary: Summertime on the North Carolina Coast. Set in the 1950's. Carlisle returns home to the beach and home to Edward. M for mature themes, AU/AH, slash.
1. Chapter 1

**On The Outskirts: Chapter One**

"Get an old panel truck for $95 and be your own Monastery in it, parking in the open desert and on wild seacoasts like Nags Head and Gaviota and in the mountains and on the outskirts of Mexican Villages and in the great woods north and south-carrying mattress, food, books, typewriter, camping equipment, brakeman's lantern and the determination to keep rolling and keep on the path of purity."

~Jack Kerouac, _Some of the Dharma_

**CPOV**

Spring semester was finally over; the past two months had been hell and I would have been happy to never see another pre-vet student again. Something about warm weather turned them all into brainless four-year-olds and I had more than one who didn't end up passing one of my classes. If I was stuck inside teaching, they sure as hell were going to be stuck in there with me, not skipping class to enjoy the sunshine and girls in short skirts.

But all that was behind me now. I'd submitted my last grade this afternoon, and I was a free man until the end of August. I wasn't planning on returning to Chapel Hill until the day my classes started in the fall. I just hoped that my host for the summer, who was unaware of my impending arrival, wouldn't mind a house guest for a few months.

I threw what little luggage I was taking with me into the back of my Thunderbird and cranked the top down before I got in and headed out of town, towards the salty air and sandy feet of my past. It was one of those rare, late May days in North Carolina where the humidity was low, the sky was crystal clear, and it wasn't uncomfortably hot yet. I flipped the radio on and found a station out of Durham that was playing decent music, interspersed with NASCAR news and college basketball commentary. I smiled to myself; only in North Carolina would you hear basketball talk on the radio in May.

I had unintentionally timed my drive perfectly. I would be getting to the island right at the same time as it got dark enough for the lights to go down and the music to go up. He would be starting his first set when I got there and I would be able to sit back and watch him for at least a few songs before he noticed me. I drove through Elizabeth City just as the sun was starting to dip into the Pasquotank River. Fishing skiffs were coming in for the night and gulls swooped lazily around the harbor as I drove down Main Street. I had very deep rooted memories of this place; coming into town for dentist appointments and Veteran's Day parades, going to the mercantile and being allowed to pick two pieces of candy from the jar on the counter, and that one time that he and I almost got caught behind the theater on Pointdexter Street.

I smiled at that memory, remembering our frantic groping and rough kisses, full of need and desire and lust, but also filled with confusion. I was home from my freshman year at college and he was getting ready to start his senior year in high school. We ran into each other in town for the first time since I'd been home and we were drawn to each other in ways that were unimaginable to either of us. It was the mid-'40s in rural North Carolina. Boys just weren't supposed to feel that way about each other, but we sure as hell did and rather than try and explain it, we just went for it with all the passion and awkwardness that goes along with young lust. That was the first summer we spent together; there had been many after that, but none recently. I missed him with a dull ache that never went away, like the way I longed for my carefree childhood, spent barefoot on the beach surrounded by familiarity and comfort.

He was home and I wanted to be home again. I just hoped he felt the same way.

The moon was full and round, its beams dancing off the small waves of the Pamilco Sound as I crossed the two lane bridge and onto the barrier islands that hugged the coast of Northeastern North Carolina. Scrub oaks and sandy dunes dotted the side of the road and the smell of blooming Russian olives permeated the air. Taking a deep breath, I filled my lungs with the salty air.

I knew the lack of cars in the parking lot was deceiving. Most people could walk to The Casino from the cedar shingle lined cottages that had been in most families for generations. Plus, the sand was deep and the chances of your car getting stuck on the side of the one paved road that ran the length of the island were great. I could hear the music thumping and throbbing as I stepped out of my car and headed towards the front door. Ras Wescott, The Casino's owner, was standing just outside the entrance, keeping a quiet eye on things. He wasn't above tossing someone out himself, even though he employed several bouncers for that very purpose. The fact that he was standing there told me it had already been a wild night, and I was honestly looking forward to the crowd. I flicked my Lucky Strike into the sand and walked up to Ras, smiling as he looked up at me from his newspaper.

"Well goddamn if it isn't Carlisle Cullen," he boomed as he smacked his giant hand across my back. "Finally decide to come home for a spell, did ya?"

"Hi Ras," I smiled, grasping his other hand and shaking it heartily. "For the summer, anyway. Spring semester ended today and I drove right down."

"Well lemme tell ya these kids are all kindsa crazy tonight. The band is hoppin' and the beer is flowin' and them girls' skirts is gettin' shorter and shorter. Get on in there and enjoy yourself. Drinks on me tonight, son. Just be sure to take your shoes off when you get on the dance floor," he said, winking.

I laughed. "You know I will. Is Edward playing with the house band tonight?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yessir he is. Been here every night this week without fail. He know you're comin'?"

"No, I don't think he does. Hey, thanks for the drinks, Ras. I'm gonna go on in," I replied.

The bottom level of the dance hall had duck pin bowling, pool tables, and a snack bar, but the real party happened up on the second story. There was a huge wooden dance floor that Ras kept shiny with bowling alley wax and you had to check your shoes at the top of the stairs before you were allowed in. I had left my shoes in the car, knowing that I probably wouldn't put them back on again until August. I headed over to the bar and got a PBR from the girl working the till, ignoring her flirtatious advances. I still hadn't turned towards the stage; the band was taking a break but I could hear a trumpet being softly played, so I knew they were getting ready to start a new set. I settled into a table in the corner of the room and looked up towards the bandstand for the first time.

He was sitting at the piano, hunched over and scribbling something on a piece of sheet music, his bare foot tapping out a melody that was probably taking root in his mind. He paused for a second, pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his madras shirt and manged to strike a match and light it with one hand, the other still scribbling. He then ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in a hundred different directions as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly he stopped, taking a long pull from the cigarette and raising his head to survey the room. His green eyes locked onto mine and narrowed for a moment before his mouth turned up into the slightest grin. I tipped my can of beer to him just as the trumpet player made his horn wail, signaling the start of the set. Couples hurried out onto the dance floor and began dancing to the big band music. A sticky breeze rolled in off the ocean and the hypnotic thumping of bare feet matched with the banging of piano keys lulled me into a trance. I watched as his fingers danced over the keys and his foot tapped in time to the music. I noticed when he nodded to the trombone to kick up the tempo a notch and when he signaled to the drummer to go easy on the bass for a few bars.

The whole thing was orchestrated chaos and he was the conductor.

He had complete control over the crowd; he slowed down their gyrations at will and then catapulted them back into a frenzied mass of sweating, throbbing bodies at his leisure. It was a beautiful thing to watch and I found myself growing hard at the thought of him conducting me like that. One song ran into the next and the dancers started to drop off the floor a few at a time. I could tell the rest of the band was getting tired too, but Edward was keyed up and frantic and was still banging away at the poor upright when the trombone player finally inched his way over and shouted something into his ear. Edward seemed to snap out of it and brought the song back down, spiraling into a dirty, brassy finish that seemed more appropriate for a Delta juke joint than a dance hall in eastern North Carolina.

I'll be the first to admit that I was really damn anxious to see how this was all going to play out. Edward had a tendency to be at either one or extreme or the other. I figured he'd either drag me out of the bar and we wouldn't make it as far as the car before one of us was half naked, or he'd punch me in the jaw and not speak to me for a week. I was honestly kind of hoping for a little bit of both. Judging from the way he was banging on the piano, I had a pretty good chance of getting naked and roughed up later tonight.

I downed the rest of my beer as Edward turned slowly away from the trombone player and narrowed his eyes at me again. I knew I was in for it. I stood up and grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and headed toward the exit without a second glance at him, but I knew he was following me. I high‐tailed my ass down the stairs and was almost to the car when he caught up with me. I turned around just as he shoved me up against the fender, knocking the breath out of me and making my dick spring to life once again.

"What the fuck, Carlisle," he breathed angrily into my ear, biting at it and shoving against me with his hips.

"Hey," I groaned back. This was looking good for me. He was speaking, at least. And biting. I could dig the biting. "Don't dent my car," I said, grinning. Of course he immediately slammed into me again, but I was ready for it that time and slammed right back. He pushed away from me and took a deep breath, his green eyes glowing with lust and frustration.

"I'm walking home," he growled.

"Fine. See you there," I replied, still grinning like a lunatic.

He made me feel drunk and invincible. I got off on his temper and he knew it. Sometimes he acted mad just because he knew it made me crazy. This was not one of those times, though. He really was pissed. I lit up a cigarette and then tossed the pack at him. He caught it with one hand and turned and started walking, grumbling under his breath and raking his fingers through his already disheveled hair. I hopped into the car and gunned the engine, spinning the wheels in the sand before I was able to get out of the lot and back onto the road. I was damn determined to get to the house before him, hoping that would give me the upper hand.

Edward lived in a saltbox that was originally the servant's quarters next to his parents' house. The days of anyone in Northeastern North Carolina having servants were long gone and I had honestly never understood why Edward just didn't move into the main house. His parents rarely made the trip down to Nags Head any more so the old cedar‐shingled house was really his for the taking. But he insisted on holing up in the little outbuilding, surrounded by his papers and music and cats.

The porch light was on when I pulled into the sand‐covered cement driveway and there were at least four cats lazing about, tails flicking at the gnats that swarmed around. The front door was wide open and giant cicadas peppered the screen. Sheets were hanging out on the line in the side yard, flapping in the subtle breeze coming off the ocean. I killed the headlights and just sat in the car for a minute, taking in the scene before me, trying to steady my heartbeat. I was home. Finally, finally home.

I eventually got out of the car and made my way up the steps; the cats flicked their ears at me but didn't bother moving off the stairs as I stepped over them. The inside of the house didn't look much different from the last time I was here. Walking in, I was immediately surrounded by Edward. Scraps of paper and sheet music were stacked, tossed, and pinned to every surface. On top of the piano were three ripening tomatoes and a full ashtray, along with another sleeping cat. Clothes, towels, blankets, and other various textiles were draped across the couch and chairs. You could see the progression of his day; drying swim trunks right by the front door next to a surfboard, slices of hoop cheese and pieces of bread still laying on the kitchen counter next to a jar of mustard, a fishing pole propped up against the icebox, an inkwell sitting precariously on top of the stove, and a clear jar filled with an amber liquid that I was quite sure came from one of the Camden County Jennings.

Edward would drive down to the swamp every so often when he was feeling particularly dry and for some reason that still eluded me, the old moonshiners trusted him implicitly. There were Red and White grocery bags filled with newspapers and old editions of National Geographic, posters from The Casino rolled up and stacked in the corners, and old photographs occupying nearly every space of available wall. I wandered over to a wall and glanced over the frames he had hanging there. Some pictures were of dogs and horses he had loved, there were a few of his parents, but most of them were of us. From when we were in school, summers spent on the beach, get‐togethers in town.

One in particular stood out. I remembered our friend Bella taking it several summers ago, back when things were far less complicated. Edward and I were standing on the beach right behind the house, the dunes and pelicans the back drop. We were both windblown and freckled; he had his arm draped over my shoulders and even though we were facing the camera, the sides of our heads were just barely touching.

I wanted that again. I wanted him to be happy, simple. I wanted his overactive brain to shut off and just be here with me, even if it was only for the summer. I knew that was asking a lot from him; a sincere smile from Edward was enough to make me feel high for days. I hoped he would give that feeling to me again. I hoped he would let me ask for it.

I jumped as the screen door smacked against the wood frame, startled out of my reflective state of mind and brought right back into the present. The present, which consisted solely of Edward and his angry sex eyes, standing just inside the door, holding a big orange cat. He shuffled the cat to the kitchen counter and started stalking towards me. I instinctively took a step backwards; it was a toss‐up as to whether his walk home had cooled him down or simply served to infuriate him even more. But then he grinned crookedly at me and every ounce of tension and worry and months of longing melted away from me.

"I'm still mad at you," he said, smiling.

"I know. I probably deserve it. It's really good to see you," I responded.

"You definitely deserve it, Carlisle. I'll probably leave a mark or ten on your annoying ass."

"Promise?" I teased him, leaning in and grabbing his bottom lip between my teeth. He answered me with an annoyed groan, but at the same time reached up and ran his hand up the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. He kissed me proper, finally, our tongues and teeth clashing and biting and sucking.

"Fuck, Carlisle. Fuck, fuck, fuck," Edward chanted as I pulled away and started nipping at his ear and down to his jawline. If I could have crawled inside of him right then and there I would have. Actually, I would have rather had him buried deep, deep inside of me. I told him so and he growled and sharply shoved me backwards onto the sofa. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back so he had better access to my neck, where he bit me, hard, right at my collarbone.

"You're fucking mine, Carlisle. Mine. No more of this bullshit, you got it?"

"Prove it, Edward," I said, looking straight into his dark eyes and grinning.

He was on top of me in a second, ripping at my shirt and clawing at the button on my pants. He was so frantic; I finally pushed his hands off of me and took my pants off myself. He had managed to step out of his shorts and as soon as my dick sprang free from the confines of my khakis he had his hand around it, pumping furiously as he spun us around so that my back was facing him. My knees hit the couch and buckled, but his one arm was around my waist immediately, holding me up and against him. He reached into the drawer of an end table and pulled out lube and a condom.

I wondered briefly why he would have that shit so available, but as his cool, slick finger started to circle my entrance I decided I didn't really give a fuck. He slipped one finger in, and then another, the burn ripping through me and settling somewhere deep inside my stomach. He added another finger as he pumped in and out and I had to stifle a cry that came from a place somewhere between pleasure and pain.

"Now, Edward. Please, please now," I whined. I certainly wasn't beneath begging at that point as I rocked back onto his hand and reached behind me, wrapping my hand around his neck.

He didn't say a word, but I felt him position himself and push into me, his dick filling me in ways that were deeper than I ever could have imagined. It hurt like a motherfucker; it had been a long time since we'd been together (and there had been no one else for me in between), but I relished the pain. I deserved the pain much more than I deserved him.

"Stop thinking, Carlisle," he said, as if he could read my mind. "Stop thinking and just pay attention to what it feels like when I fuck you." With that, he pulled nearly all of the way out and then slammed back into me. He reached around and took my dick in his hand and started to jack me off again, frantically and without any kind of rhythm. I twisted and clenched around him every time he thrust back into me, trying to get more friction, more tightness, closer. I wasn't going to last long and I knew he wasn't either. I reached down and wrapped my hand around his as I started to come, the sight of our hands together overwhelming me.

He came right after me, slowly and quietly, in stark contrast to the activity that had led us up to that point. When he was finished, he turned me around and fell onto the couch, pulling me with him. We sat with our arms wrapped around each other, softly kissing, him whispering sweet, ridiculous things into my ear as I just sighed and remained at a loss for words. Eventually he peeled away from me and stood up, silently reaching out for my hand and leading me into the bedroom. We collapsed into his sandy sheets and he curled around me and let me hold him as we both fell asleep.

I woke an hour or so later to the sound of the ceiling fan clicking slowly and Edward snoring slightly. The sound of his gentle, satiated breathing made me feel pretty rotten for a minute. I knew he didn't sleep regularly, and I knew a big part of that was my fault. I rolled over and softly kissed his shoulder; he tasted like salt and sunshine. Like Edward. He began to stir and I buried my face into his shoulder and wrapped myself around him. He needed holding, even if he refused to admit it.

"I'm glad you came home," he said, leaning into my embrace even further and letting out a shaky breath.

"Me too. I worry about you, you know? You get so lost in yourself. But I thought giving you time to get yourself sorted was a good idea. I guess I was wrong."

"Don't make decisions for me, Carlisle. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself. But when you go back to Chapel Hill and don't call or write for months at a time it makes me think that I'm nothing to you. You show up for a day here and a weekend there and then leave me again. It pisses me off," he said, his voice hardening in a heartbeat.

"I'm sorry, Edward. Don't do this again. Don't get angry. I know we have a lot to talk about, but can you please just be here with me right now? Stop thinking and just be. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, I promise," I pleaded, tightening my hold and burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"I love you so fucking much it infuriates me," he muttered.

"I know, baby. Let's get it right this time, okay? We have all summer." My deep and undying sentiments were brought to a crashing halt as the lamp on the bedside table fell to the floor and shattered. Edward had his back to it and didn't flinch. I looked up over his shoulder and while I wanted to be surprised at the sight before me, I just couldn't be.

"Um, Edward…" I began, "Why is there a horse with his head through the window right now?"

He laughed silently into my chest and then matter‐of‐factly said, "That's Ripper. Darlene Midgette gave him to me after he dumped her kids for the hundredth time and broke the little one's arm."

I sat up and looked more closely at the brown and white horse who now had my shirt in his mouth and was ripping it apart at the seams.

"Where the hell do you keep him?"

"He just wanders. He stays in the yard for the most part. The other day he started off across the Sound, though. Haven't got a clue where he was going, but he turned around after I stood out there and yelled at him for a while. I believe Darlene has another stallion that Bobby brought home that she's about ready to kill. I could go get him and we could take off into the sunset. Like Roy Rogers."

"You're such a shit," I said as I flipped him onto his back and pinned his hands over his head. I slid down his torso, on my way to licking his hipbones, when there was another loud crash.

"Goddammit Edward," I growled.

"Riptide, get the hell out of here," he shouted as he threw a pillow at the stallion, who snorted and squealed, but backed out of the window.

I bit down hard on his pelvic bone, causing him to grunt out a string of words that weren't even  
>intelligible. He tried to flip us so that I was the one on my back, but I held him down. Edward had control issues and rarely liked to be pinned underneath anything, but short stints of being held against his will were good for him. Or at least in my mind they were. Mostly because it made him struggle and in turn get frustrated, and usually he took those frustrations out on me. Which was even better than being on top. The easiest way to keep him on his back was to put his dick in my mouth, which is exactly what I did.<p>

I took his shaft in my hand and flattened my tongue as I licked from bottom to top, swirling around the tip as I twisted my hand. He arched up towards me and I used my free hand to push his hips back down onto the bed. He started to protest, but I moved my hands from his hips to his balls, which shut him up pretty quickly. I took his whole length into my mouth and grazed him with my teeth on the way back up. He groaned and lifted his hips again, thrusting into the back of my throat. I let him that time, wrapping my hand around the base of his cock and pumping him as my tongue went up and down, up and down. His cock twitched in my hand and he started to warn me that he was close, but then decided against it and just pushed up into my mouth again as he came. I smiled against him and took it from him, finally giving him some control.

When he was done, I crawled back up to the pillows and Edward immediately flipped over on his stomach.

"I think you've killed me, Carlisle. Thanks. Life was getting rather exhausting."

"Don't talk like that, Edward," I said as I slapped his ass, hard, and bolted from the bed before he could catch me. I picked up the first pair of shorts I found laying on the floor and wandered into the kitchen. I knew Edward kept grass in the house and I really, really needed to roll a joint. I guess he heard me rummaging around in the cabinets because he yelled out "over the stove" and I found a pickle jar filled with the greenest weed I'd seen a long time. There were papers laying right next to it, so I rolled two joints and shuffled back into the bedroom with them and the jar of liquor. He was pulling up his shorts as I walked through the doorway.

"Can we go sit on the beach?" he asked, almost shyly.

"Of course, baby," I said, smiling. He grinned at me and threw his arm over my shoulder, kissing my neck as he led me back out of the bedroom.

We headed out the back door, the screen slamming with a satisfying thwack, and walked over the grassy dune onto the beach below. The moon was full and shimmering off the calm ocean. Edward collapsed onto the sand, laughing and pulling me with him. I lit one the joints as he unscrewed the top of the jar and we took turns passing them back and forth to each other. We sat there for hours, sometimes talking quietly about unimportant stuff, but mostly just in silence, the only noise coming from the waves lapping at the shoreline and Ripper chewing salt grass on the dune behind us. The sky started to turn blue, and then pink, and then a brilliant orange and Edward finally stood up and offered out his hand to me again. I took it and stood, and we went back into the house and collapsed back into bed, curling around each other, both of us holding on for dear life.

**A/N**

This story is based on a real place and on very real people. The landscape has changed, but the sand and the salt air are still very much there.

Many, many thanks to my dear friend suzspetals for beta'ing at the eleventh hour. She keeps me sane...not an easy task. Plus she's really not a fan of the slash, so she had to insert "suzspetals" every time there was a "Carlisle." That there is love, let me tell ya. ;-) Also special thanks and inappropriate ass grabs to sadtomatoFF and TheRainGirl4 for pre-reading, cheerleading, and occasionally threatening bodily harm if I didn't hurry up and finish the damn thing. You guys are the bestest.

And lastly, thank you, thank you, thank you to my Rachie for making the awesome banner for this story and helping me come up with the title. *smooches*

Chapter 2 coming soon...reviews are much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

On The Outskirts: Chapter Two

"Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running—that's the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there…" -Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

I woke up to an empty bed, tangled in the thin cotton sheet and sweating my ass off. There was no longer a breeze coming in off the water and the slow rotations of the ceiling fan did nothing to help move the oppressive air inside the bedroom. It was honestly pretty refreshing. I had missed the heat, in more ways than one, and as I stretched and groaned at the soreness that had settled across my body, I wondered where Edward had gone. Judging by the way the sun was coming in through the window, it was close to noon and the fact that he was no longer in bed didn't surprise me.

I finally rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of swim trunks and shuffled out to the living room. The house was empty and the surfboard was gone, so I figured Edward had already gone to the beach. My stomach growled and I was reminded that I hadn't eaten since before I left Chapel Hill the day before. I sliced a cantaloupe in half and stood in the kitchen scooping out the inside, savoring the warm, sweet, slightly salty fruit that I could tell was grown on the island. When I was finished, I tossed the rind out into the yard and thumped down the back stairs and towards the dunes in search of Edward.

Standing on top of the sand, I could see up and down the beach for miles, but it didn't take long for me to spot him. He was in the water directly in front of me, sitting on the board with his back to me, staring towards the east and waiting for waves. The sea was glassy and calm and gulls swooped in and out of the water all around him. A school of porpoise swam by not ten feet from him; he was like a part of the landscape.

He turned, and seeing me, started to paddle back to shore.

"Hey," he said, shaking his head like a wet dog. I laughed at the position his hair ended up in as I stood and put my hands on this sides of his face. I kissed him lightly on his salty lips, the water from his hair dripping onto me. He groaned and deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth and then pulling away and biting the shit out of my bottom lip.

"Dammit, Edward. That hurt," I whined, drawing my lip into my mouth and tasting blood. He reached up and with his thumb pulled my lip out from in between my teeth and then kissed me softly again. Despite the fact that he was making me hard, I glared at him.

"Making me bleed is not sexy, E."

"Au contraire, love. It is sexy because it makes you squirm. And I like it when you squirm," he said with a wink as he turned and headed back up the dune.

"I wanna go get that pony from Darlene this afternoon," he added over his shoulder.

"You're going to have an entire herd of Banker ponies in the yard. The Meads are gonna have a fit when they get down here for the summer," I said, thinking of the neighbors.

"I don't rightly give a flying fuck about the Meads. Besides, you can help me put up a fence," he grinned at me.

"I am not helping you build a damn fence. And you know those ponies won't stay in a fence. They'll tear it right down." By that point we had made it up the dune and he was standing under the shower head that came out of the wall on the side of the house, rinsing the salt off his tanned and freckled body. I inadvertently licked my lips and he caught me and smirked.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

We were sitting in the shade on the porch, attempting to play chess but mostly just making out when I glanced up and saw someone trotting down the road on a chestnut horse, leading a paint behind him.

"Somebody's coming this way with your pony," I said as a removed myself from his lap and put his king in check, all in one swift movement.

"Dammit. I hate this game," he muttered before looking down the road to see who it was bringing Riptide home. He stood up as they approached the house and leaned over the railing, smiling at the boy on the chestnut.

"Hey Riley. Where'd you find him?"

"In Mrs. Burriss's cabbage patch. He's gonna have a belly ache and she might rightly kill you," the kid said, tossing the lead rope to Edward.

"Thanks for bringing him home. Is that chestnut the one Darlene was trying to get rid of?" he asked, nodding towards Riley's mount.

"Yeah. She saw me riding the paint down here and told me to bring this one too. What the hell are you gonna do with all these damn ponies, Edward?"

"I like looking out into my yard and seeing nice horseflesh, Riley. A man needs a good horse or two at all times," he replied, lighting up a cigarette and glancing towards me with a grin.

I just shook my head at him and then looked back towards Riley, whose connection to Edward I was starting to wonder about. He wasn't really a boy; he looked to be about twenty, maybe twenty one. And he and Edward obviously had a friendly relationship. Of course, Edward had a friendly relationship with most everyone on the island. They indulged his eccentricities because he was one of their own, but I got the feeling that Edward and Riley had more of a history than just friendly neighbors. Jealousy bubbled up into the pit of my stomach and I knew Edward sensed it because he immediately introduced us.

"Riley, this is my old friend Carlisle. He'll be staying here for the summer."

Riley sized me up before muttering a nice to meet you. That in itself was a testament to the fact that his mama had raised him with some manners, because I could tell by the look on his face that it was anything but nice for me to be standing there shoulder to shoulder with Edward. I smiled and returned the pleasantry as Riley slid off of the chestnut gelding and tossed his lead rope to Edward too.

"Right, then. I gotta run up to the pier and help Sam unload a bushel of crabs and get 'em packed up to take to the mainland. See ya'll later," Riley said, turning back towards the road.

"Stop on your way back home if you want a drink later," Edward called after him. Riley just raised his hand in acknowledgement, not bothering to turn around.

"Well that was pleasant," I said to Edward, taking the red horse's lead out of his hand and hopping over the porch railing.

"You gonna be pissy now? He's a good kid and you know damn well there aren't a whole lotta guys like us on this godforsaken island," he spat at me from the porch. "He's not you. It's nothing like us," he said softly, his tone changing completely.

I sighed and stopped pretending to look over the new horse's legs.

"I know, Edward. I guess I have no right to be upset. It just caught me off guard, is all. I don't know why I never expected there to be someone else."

He swung over the railing so we were face to face. "There isn't anyone else. I like Riley, a lot, but it was just sex. We'd come back here after being out at the Casino or the Inn and it just happened. I was lonely and he's good company."

He was so sincere that I was having a hard time staying mad at him. If anything, I felt like a jackass for leaving him alone for so long. But I couldn't get the words out and I still felt like punching someone in the face, so I turned my attention back to the new horse.

"So I guess we need to go buy lumber, huh?" I asked, changing the subject before it had a chance to turn volatile again.

"Yeah. We can tether 'em in the yard for the rest of the day, but I guess we'll have to drive across the Sound tomorrow. I'll borrow Sam's truck and we can go in the morning. But for now, since we have reliable transportation besides that damn car of yours, let's ride these ponies up to Sambo's and get a drink."

He tied the horses up to the porch while we went inside and put shirts on, not bothering with buttoning them up and definitely not bothering with shoes. Edward found an old bridle for the chestnut in a closet and grabbed Riptide's off a hook by the door. We swung ourselves onto the ponies and pointed them south towards Oregon Inlet.

"See? Now aren't you glad I procured you a horse? You ought to name him," Edward said.

"You're better with naming things than I am. And yes, I am glad. It's been a long time since I whipped your ass in a race," I said, laughing and thumping the gelding in the sides. He shook his head and we took off down the dirt path. I heard hooves and laughing behind me as Edward and Ripper caught up to us. My horse saw them too, flattened his ears against his head and dug in, surging forward. I wrapped my free hand into his mane; it had been a long time since I'd run ponies bareback. Leaning forward, I whispered "go!" into his ear. He found more speed and we inched away from Edward and his flashy paint horse. I looked under my arm and saw that he had started to pull up, so I sat up and reined the chestnut in too. We slowed to a trot and Edward caught up with us again, still laughing.

"Damn, Carlisle! That is one fast fucking pony. And he hardly broke a sweat. Whistle."

"Whistle? That's his name?" I asked, entirely out of breath.

"Yep. I need a drink," he said and clucked to Ripper, trotting ahead of us.

~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

We had reached the point in our drinking where I knew I needed to drag Edward out of the bar before he got handsy and we ended up with a burned down house or a cross in the front yard. The other bar patrons were tolerant as long as they could turn a blind eye to two grown men sitting shoulder to shoulder and whispering into each other's ears, but I was pretty sure that Edward sticking his tongue down my throat because he'd had too much to drink would cause us a problem or two.

"Hey E," I said, nudging his shoulder. "Let's get outta here, okay?"

He looked up and surveyed the room before ginning wickedly. "Locals gettin' 'spicious?" he slurred lightly. "Fuck 'em. Let's go."

He slid off the bar stool and tossed a couple of dollars onto the bar before stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. His ab muscles rippled and his shorts rode down on his hips making me want to drop onto my knees and lick him right there in front of everyone. He was doing it on purpose. He winked and walked backwards out the door, not missing a beat as he hopped down the stairs still facing me. I just shook my head at him and followed, trying not to make a scene with the raging boner I was currently sporting. I was also thanking the horse gods that I was in possession of a fast pony just in case said boner was noticed by anyone other than Edward and I had to make a run for it. Down at the Inlet, right at the southern-most ass end of the island, life was a little rougher and the fishermen not as indulgent of Edward and his weirdness. On a good day they ignored him and that was mostly because Sam, the owner of the bar and fishing pier, liked Edward a lot and was some degree of cousin somewhere down the line.

"This, Carlisle, is the time of evening when you take your time trottin' back on home. The air is cooler and the goddamn black flies ain't bitin' anymore and you can just enjoy the ride," he drawled. I loved how he turned into a true Carolinian after a few drinks. He sounded like as much a part of the sandy soil as the salt grass growing on the dunes we were riding over.

"I know, Edward. I've missed this. I know you don't believe me, but I really, truly have," I told him.

"See, that's where you're readin' me wrong. I know you've missed this. You can't help it. It's in your blood. You'll keep comin' back to this place just like those damn snow geese do every year. Just as sure as the tides and the moon, you'll be back. I know that. But sometimes I just can't help but pray real hard to whatever fishtailed god is lookin' over this spit of land that this time, this time, you'll stay."

I didn't even know how to respond to something so sincere. It tore me up and all I could do was watch him wipe the back of his hand across his eyes as his face hardened and he urged Riptide to trot forward a little faster. I reined Whistle in and let Edward trot on ahead, needing some time to myself.

Ripper was tied up to the porch when Whistle and I finally made our way back. He had his nose stuck deep inside a bucket and was chewing happily, his ears twitching back and forth in time to the music that was floating out of the open windows of the house.

I collapsed onto the sofa next to Edward and he passed me the bottle.

"I love you, Edward. Despite all the bullshit, I love you. When there's nothing else left, there will always be that," I told him as the amber liquid burned its way down my throat and into my stomach.

"Is that enough? It hasn't been enough for me. It doesn't make it any better when I'm sittin' here by myself at night, wishin' there was someone for me to scooch up next to when I get into bed. It isn't enough when I'm feelin' all alone after some dumb hick calls me a faggot and throws a fish head at me. It isn't enough when I can't get my brain to shut off for one motherfuckin' minute and all I need is you here to quiet me down." He stared straight ahead at the beadboard on the wall, blinking back tears and getting angrier and angrier.

I knew I was a dumbshit and was about to say something I'd regret and that would cause him to haul off and bloody my face, so I didn't respond. I just stood up and walked out. I hated myself for not being what he needed and I hated myself for walking out on him again, but I really hated that we were right back where we started, running around in circles and just getting pissed at each other. I wasn't enough for him, but he refused to leave the safety of his little shack, the comfort of the cats and the horses and the tons of crap he had stacked up in every corner of every room. He refused to meet me halfway. I couldn't be solely responsible for keeping him happy; it was an impossible task. I could see myself getting stuck right there with him, and the scariest part was that the thought of getting stuck didn't really scare me all that much.

My brain was turning into a real fucked up place, and I blamed him for that. I hadn't even been home 24 hours and my thoughts were already as muddy and convoluted as his were. I made it as far as the front porch before I collapsed in frustration and buried my head in my arms. Whistle nickered softly and stuck his nose in between the crook of my elbow and my head, blowing his sweet, horsey breath into my face.

The screen door creaked open behind me and I felt the wood sag next to me as he sat down. He slowly inched his arm around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder.

"What if, even when I'm here to help you with all the bad stuff, it's still not enough? What then?" I asked.

"It probably won't be. But isn't that ok too?"

"I don't know. I just want you to be happy."

"It's not your responsibility to make me happy. I mean, for fuck's sake, I wouldn't wish that task on my worst enemy." I turned my head slightly to look at him and saw the faintest flicker of a grin on his face. I lifted my head out of my arms and sat up straighter as he tightened his grip on my waist.

"I love you too, Carlisle. At the root of all things, I love you."

The urge to crawl inside of him right then overwhelmed me as I straddled him and wrapped my arms around his neck. I whispered incoherent things about love and forever and we'll make this work as his hands roamed my torso and he lightly kissed me all over.

"Fuck, baby," I groaned into his ear as I rocked back and forth. He had somehow managed to get his hand in my pants and was lazily stroking my dick while he continued to bite and lick and kiss across my neck and up my jaw. This was the kind of mood swing that always drew me back to him. Edward was nothing if not raw and sincere in everything he believed in, be it love, hate, or that weird gray line in between the two. He was one mercurial bastard but the upswings were such a high that they made the rough times totally worth it.

I thrust up into his hand and squirmed a little bit, needing more, rougher contact. I whined in his ear and tried to pull away so that I could lead him into the house, but he grabbed me by the hips and slammed me back down into his lap.

"Sit," he ordered as he snaked his hands back into my pants and cupped my ass, squeezing hard enough to probably leave bruises.

"Please, Edward," I begged. "I need you so bad and we're not doing this on the front porch."

He pulled away, huffed, and then in one swift movement stood up, bringing me with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he backed towards the screen door, toeing it open and then slamming the big door shut behind us. He dumped me on the couch so that he could kick out of his shorts, and I took the opportunity to do the same. He stood there and stared at me for a second, looking feral and kind of scary, like he was planning his attack. I leaned back against the sofa, palming my dick and smiling at him, which made him growl deep in his chest.

I decided then that I quite fancied being chased, so I scrambled up and over the back of the couch. Edward's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards me, a slightly sadistic grin on his face. I backed into the bedroom and around to the far side of the bed as he stalked in after me. Wordlessly, he climbed onto the bed and crawled towards me, sitting back on his knees when he got to the edge and reaching out for my wrist. I let him pull me towards the bed, hesitating for a second just to mess with him. He yanked me towards him and when I was close enough, leaned forward and swallowed my dick. I felt myself hit the back of his throat and a shudder ripped through my entire body. He still had one hand wrapped around my wrist while he twisted the other hand around the base of my cock. He grazed me with his teeth as he pulled up slowly, swirling his tongue around the tip of my dick as he pumped up and down with his free hand.

"Fuck, Edward," I groaned. He hummed around me in response, sending another shaky wave of pleasure up my spine. I thrust into his mouth and he took all of me, releasing both my wrist and my dick as he sharply grabbed a hold of my hips. He moved with me as I fucked his mouth and I was about to tell him to stop because I was going to come when he pulled off of me and licked all the way up my abdomen. We were face to face then, and he reached up and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me towards him and kissing me fiercely. I leaned into him and he fell backwards, pulling me onto the bed with him.

Taking advantage of my position, I slid down his body and wrapped my lips around his dick, eliciting a groan and a hip thrust from him. I knew he wouldn't let me lean over him for long so I wasn't surprised when he sat up and pulled me back up to face him.

"I need you," he whisper-pleaded.

"You have me, Edward. Take me, please."

His mouth crashed into mine as he spun us around and laid me down underneath him. Without breaking the kiss, he reached down and began circling my hole with two lubed fingers; I couldn't help but arch up off the bed as he slipped one, and then another inside of me.

"I'm ready, I'm ready," I began to chant, my need for him becoming painful.

"No you're not. I rushed and hurt you last night. Let me take care of you," he said breathlessly into the crook of my neck.

I started to argue with him but he bit down on my collarbone as he slipped a third finger in and any hope of coherency I had went flying out the window and into the Atlantic. I groaned and rode his fingers, letting go of the tension, the worry, the what-ifs, and just let him take care of me like he asked. His fingers finally slid out of me and were replaced almost instantaneously by his cock, causing me to cry out in sheer fucking relief.

"Are you ok?" he asked, pausing.

"Yes, yes. So ok," I gasped.

He filled me then, and I was complete. Slowly, reverently he thrust in and out, leaning forward every once in a while to take my bottom lip in his teeth, kiss my neck, lean his forehead against mine. It was slow and unhurried. It wasn't lust, or desperation, or frustration. It was just Edward and I, loving each other on the most basic and true level. He finally reached down between us and took my dick in his hand. The contact was all I needed to hurtle me towards the edge of release and I dug my nails into the back of his shoulders trying to stave it off for a little while longer.

"Stop that and come," he said, smiling and thrusting into me slightly harder. My orgasm overtook me then, ripping through my body like a tidal wave. He tensed and I felt him release inside me, muttering my name as he shook and shuddered from head to toe. When we were both finished, he collapsed on top of me before rolling over and curling up around me. I was a sweaty, sticky, slightly sandy mess and had never been more comfortable.

We laid together in a contented silence as the last rays of sun dipped into the Pamilco Sound and twilight was ushered onto the island. Eventually, Edward stretched out with his arms above his head, groaning and cracking his back.

"You look like one of your damn cats when you do that," I laughed. "I'm starving. Should we go up to the Inn for something to eat?"

"Nope. I have steaks in the ice box and some red potatoes that somebody left on the porch this morning. I'll go light the grill," he said, sitting up and pulling on his shorts. I ran my hand down his back and I swear I heard him purr before he stood up and headed for the back door. I grabbed a towel off the chair and headed to the outside shower so that I could clean up a little before getting the steaks ready for him.

After I was clean, I took the food out for him to cook and we sat talking to each other, the cats, and the horses while the steaks sizzled on the grill. When they were finished, we sat on the back steps and ate off of one plate, illuminated by the porch light and surrounded by begging cats. Edward made sure each and every one of them got a piece of steak fat before we moved around to the front porch with a bottle and a joint.

There was so much for us to talk about, so many questions and grievances that needed to be discussed, but we were back under that dusky spell that settled over us most nights. The alcohol and weed made both of us hazy and even more wrapped up in each other, and I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to break that spell tonight. So instead we sat and talked about the island and who was seeing who and who had done lost their mind and who was spending too much time drinking at the Casino and not enough time at home taking care of their babies.

Edward talked about Riley and how he really just felt bad for the kid since his daddy was a drunk and liked to slap him around. He said Riley was the first generation of that family born on the island and that in itself was a hardship. It wasn't easy being an outcast and Riley sure seemed to have a lot of things stacked against him in that regard. I suggested that perhaps Edward shouldn't treat people exactly the way he treated the stray cats he took in and that made him quiet for a bit. After thinking on it for a while, he told me that he reckoned Riley really needed a friend and a safe place to go and he really didn't think it was a bad thing to be thought of in the same vein as the big orange cat that was purring in his lap.

I started to argue back that I imagined Riley probably wouldn't appreciate being compared to one of Edward's cats when movement at the end of the driveway caught my attention.

"Well, speak of the devil," Edward laughed loudly as Riley came striding towards the house with a look of determination and anger on his face. I had a feeling then that the evening's quiet spell was about to be broken.

**A/N**

As always, thank you, thank you, thank you to suzspetals for pre-reading, editing, and suggesting that the word "swoony" was probably not in Carlisle's vocabulary. And more big spanks to TheRainGirl4 for her super beta talents and mad cheerleading skillz. Sorry for any formatting issues. FFn is being a pain in the ass. Imagine that, huh?

I realized I never put a disclaimer at the beginning of this, but (like sadt said recently) this story really has nothing to do with Twilight. No infringement intended. The names belong to Stephenie Meyer, but everything else is mine.

Last thing...hello everyone who put this story on alert! I am truly humbled. Now won't you do me a solid and leave a little review? It really would make my day. Or at the very least come say hello on Twitter. I'm donnersun.

Until next time. xx


	3. Chapter 3

"On soft Spring nights I'll stand in the yard under the stars ‐ Something good will come out of all things yet ‐ And it will be golden and eternal just like that ‐ There's no need to say another word." ‐Jack Kerouac, _Big Sur_

**OtO**

"Riley, you look mad enough to spit, son," Edward laughed as he leaned over the porch rail.

"Shut the fuck up, Edward," Riley said. "You spend a year telling me about how he leaves you high and dry, all alone and pathetic and sad and then he shows up and everything's fine? You're gonna stand there and laugh like nothin' is wrong with this situation? You're fuckin' insane."

"Hey man, come on. Don't walk up here and start yelling at him," I said. Edward was laughing as he took a drag from the joint and leaned even further over the porch rail.

"Yeah, Riley. Calm yourself down and come sit up here with us," he said, handing the joint to him. Riley glared for a second but then took it and thumped up the steps, collapsing onto one of the benches built into the porch.

"This still ain't right, Edward," he muttered as he took a long drag and then watched the smoke drift up to the ceiling. "Ya'll know people are talkin' about you. Yesterday Sam was asking all kinds of questions. Wantin' to know what in the world you two were up to over here. Better watch yourselves goin' up there and gettin' sloppy drunk in the middle of the afternoon."

"Sam's full of shit," Edward said, effectively ending the conversation. I wasn't done with it, though. What Riley said honestly scared the shit out of me. I'd never stayed this long before unless I was living in my own house. I had been worried from the beginning of the summer that people would start talking and that their tolerance would wane.

"Carlisle, snap out of it," Edward barked at me, startling me and bringing back into what was happening there on the porch. "Stop worrying about things you have no control over. Everything is fine," he said. Despite the way he spoke to me, the expression on his face was soft. He smiled at me as he came and sat down, draping his arm over my shoulder and leaning into me.

"It's not," I replied, smiling. "But I appreciate the reassurance."

"You're kind of impossible to deal with sometimes," he replied, grinning because he knew he was being a shit. "I'll be right back. Riptide is over there under the Meads' house. I think he's tryin' to get up the stairs. "

He stood and headed next door, whistling and yelling at the stallion who was, in fact, trying to climb the steps up the porch.

"So, Riley," I said, turning my attention to him. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to say."

"I care about him. You don't know what he was like all winter. It was awful, Carlisle. And I was the one here trying to keep him from drinking himself to death or swimming out in the ocean and never coming back. He just sat out there on the beach for days at a time. I sat with him and you know what he talked about? He talked about you. I've heard every story he has to tell about ya'll. I knew there was never anything serious between us. I just don't want to see him hurt again."

I was nearly speechless.

"I'm so, so sorry," I told him. I had obviously misjudged him and I felt like a jackass for it.

"It's fine. I don't blame you for thinking poorly of me. I'm still pretty angry, but he's so much happier with you here that it's hard to hate you for it."

"I don't think poorly of you, Riley. I honestly don't know what to think. I feel like a complete and utter failure. I know I let him down. But on the other hand, his inability to function like a normal human being makes it difficult to live with him," I laughed.

"Yeah, but that's why you love him."

"I guess you're right," I smiled.

We sat in silence for a while, passing the joint back and forth until it went out, and I thought about what it must have been like for Edward, isolated on the island. I knew he missed me when I was gone; I missed him too. I guess it had just never occurred to me how deeply affected he was by my absence. When I was in Chapel Hill I was busy with with students and the university veterinary practice. I rarely had time to sit and wallow in my loneliness, but Edward had all the time in the world.

"Hey, I gotta go," Riley said, startling me. I had no idea how long we'd been sitting there, but I suddenly realized that Edward had never come back from getting Ripper.

"Yeah, ok. Thanks for coming back tonight. I really mean that," I told him. "I guess I ought to go find Edward."

"He's probably down on the beach or something. If ya'll need help with that fence just let me know. I'll be back in the inlet by noon tomorrow," he said as he cleared the stairs and headed down the driveway. I watched him disappear into the night before turning back into the house. It was empty and dark and there was no sign of Edward in the yard or on the beach. I ran my hands through my hair and sighed; I had a feeling that once I found him we were going to be in for a long night. I had a lot to say to him.

**OtO**

"C'mon, Whistle," I said, clucking to the horse. I pointed him in the direction of The Casino, figuring that would be a good place to start my search for Edward. He was probably either there or at the Inn, getting drunk and probably about to get into a fight.

Sure enough, Ripper was tied up out in front. I tethered Whistle next to him and made my way to Ras, who was standing in the doorway.

"You probably ought to go on in there and do something about your boy, Cullen. Looks like he's about to start tearing things up and I'd hate to have to kick his ass tonight," he said to me with no hint of a smile on his face. My mouth fell open at the "your boy" part of his statement. Were we that obvious? I didn't have time to dwell on the ramifications of that for long as Ras slapped his giant hand on my back and ushered me inside.

"He's upstairs. I made him hop up there with the band. He's gotta stay off the floor. If he starts trouble it ain't gonna end pretty."

"Uh, thanks Ras. I'm sorry. I'll get him…we'll be…fuck. I'll get him outta here," I stuttered. Ras just nodded and went back outside.

I climbed the stairs up to the dance floor where the band was just finishing up a set. Edward was wailing on a trumpet, hunched over with his back to the crowd. The song ended and the piano player got up and said something into his ear; something that obviously ticked him off because he tossed the horn onto the floor and hopped off the stage. He saw me and headed my direction. He slammed into my chest and tried to hug me, burying his face in the crook of my neck as I tried to peel him off of me.

"Baby, you're causing a scene," I whispered into his ear. "We have to get out of here."

He took a step back and glanced around the room, a look of pain and anxiety on his face. "I can't deal with this and Riley and trying to keep it all together. Shit. Why are people looking at us?" I could see the wheels in his head spinning out of control and knew we were headed for a serious breakdown.

"Come on," I grabbed his hand, suddenly not giving a shit about anyone else in the room, the intense need to get him out of there overwhelming me. We headed towards the stairs and were almost out the door when some dumb looking kid from the mainland stepped in front of us, blocking our exit.

"Hey sissy boys. Why ya in sucha hurry?" he slurred.

I felt Edward tense next to me, and he seemed to grow taller and wider, filling with anger like a bulldog about to fight. He was on top of the asshole in a second, pushing the kid down the narrow hallway and out one of the side doors of the building, beating the ever loving shit out of him in the process. I heard Ras roar in the background and knew I needed to get Edward out of there as fast as I could. I yelled his name and got no response, so I finally just wrapped my arms around his waist and started dragging him to where the horses were tied up. Ras came barreling around the corner and grabbed the kid by the collar of his shirt, swearing at him and telling him to beat it. He turned to face us, red with anger.

"Get home now. Carlisle, I better not see him back here until he cools off. Get your shit worked out and take care of him, you hear me?" Ras said, glancing back and forth between Edward and me.

"I'm sorry, Ras. Really, really sorry," I said as Edward slumped against me.

"I don't think it's me you oughta be apologizin' to," he replied, nodding towards Edward. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but I do know he ain't been right since the last time you left. And then comin' here and actin' like a fool in my bar? I got enough to deal with now that the tourists are back for the summer. He knows better. Work it out, Carlisle." He turned then and headed back inside.

Edward coughed next to me and wiped his bloody nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Where's my horse?" he muttered. I did some more opening and closing of my mouth, not able to find words for him, as he wandered around front to where the horses were tied up. I watched him clamber up on Riptide and point the horse towards home, never once looking back to see if I was following.

I was, of course.

**OtO**

"Edward," I said softly. He was sitting on the back steps smoking a cigarette and watching the waves.

"Hey," he responded. I sat down on the step next to him and we were silent for a minute before he spoke again.

"My granddaddy Masen used to tell me a story about water horses that lived in the ocean and would lure little kids into the water, but not let them out. Kelpies, he called them. I think he was probably just trying to keep me from going out in the surf when the tides were real rough, but the stories never really scared me. Can't imagine a sea horse wantin' to drown a kid."

I looked from him to Riptide, who was standing next to the stairs, his muzzle resting on Edward's shoulder.

"Remember going out to swim in the middle of the night when the plankton would light up the water?" I asked him.

"It was like swimming in stars."

"Let me clean up your face."

"I'm fine. I think that little shit broke my nose, though."

"Let me look at it."

"I said I'm fine."

"I'll just do it when you're asleep. Let me look now."

He huffed and tossed the cigarette into the sand as he stood up and turned to go inside the house. Flipping on the light in the kitchen, he hopped up onto the counter and sat waiting for me.

"I don't know what you're going to do about my broken nose, horse doctor," he said to me, a small grin on his bruised face.

"You probably need stitches over your eye. Just let me clean the blood off. Were you planning on fighting with everyone in the bar?"

"Just the people who looked at me funny. Got through two of 'em before Ras shoved me up onto the stage."

"Uh huh. Tilt your head up," I told him. His nose was definitely broken and the rest of his face didn't look much better. I took my time wiping the dried and caked‐on blood off. He winced every time the rag got anywhere near his nose, and I wished that there was something I could do to make it hurt less. I knew there was no way he was going to let me take him to the hospital in Elizabeth City, and even then there was nothing they could really do for him.

"Baby you need stitches above your eye. There's glass in it. I don't even want to know how that happened." I grabbed a pair of tweezers and started removing the tiny shards of glass from the gash. He was starting to get twitchy again but I couldn't rush cleaning the wound.

"Sit still, please," I asked him as he reached down and started messing with the button on my pants. "Edward, seriously. Stop it and let me finish." He whined under his breath but sat on his hands in an attempt to keep them still.

"The glass is out. Let me go get my bag out of the car and I'll stitch it up. Otherwise it's going to heal from the inside out and you're going to have a nasty scar," I told him. He muttered something under his breath about scars as I ran outside and grabbed some stuff to finish cleaning him up.

"No fucking way, Carlisle," he said as I walked in with a needle and syringe. "That's a goddamn horse needle and you're not sticking it in my head." He jumped off the counter and started backing away from me.

"Well, it will hurt less than me stitching you up without numbing it," I told him as I filled the syringe with lydocaine and followed him into the bedroom.

"Sit down on the bed."

He looked around and realized he was backed into a corner and I wasn't going to let him get out of this, so he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Back up a little," I told him. He scooted further back and I sat down in his lap, facing him, so he couldn't get away.

"Take a deep breath. It's a pretty big gauge needle, but you'll be ok."

He closed his eyes and sucked in a mouthful of air. I couldn't help but laugh at how just a few hours ago he was fearlessly cracking heads at the bar and was now reduced to near tears at the sight of a needle. I kissed his neck softly and then injected the lydocaine into the skin above his eye. He hissed but didn't move. I injected three more places around the gash and then tossed the needle and syringe onto the floor and wrapped my arms around him.

"I'm sorry. It will be numb in a minute and then I'll stitch it up," I told him.

"Get off me," he said, squirming underneath me.

"I said I was sorry. It shouldn't hurt anymore…"

"No, really, get off me. I'm going to throw up all over you if don't move." He dumped me onto the bed and ran to the window where he emptied the contents of his stomach (which, at that point, was probably nothing more than whiskey) onto the ground below. He turned back around and sank to the floor, looking absolutely defeated.

"Come into the living room and let's finish this," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. He groaned but followed, and I made quick work of stitching his eye up. When I was done, he stretched out on the sofa while I cleaned up, grabbed some ice for his nose, and turned all the lights off. The moon was full and bright and I knew the electric lights made his head hurt. He lifted up enough for me to scoot underneath him and then laid his head in my lap, sighing contentedly. The orange cat curled up on his stomach and he whispered an _I love you _just before drifting off to sleep.

Sitting there with my hands in his hair, listening to his breathing, the cat purring, the waves hitting the shore right outside the window all lulled me into state of comfort that I knew I shouldn't feel. We had to get to the root of all this because I couldn't spend the rest of my life stitching him up and kissing away the scars. It wasn't fair to either of us. But yet, once again, the storm blew through and he was back to being my sweet Edward and it was easier just to ignore what had happened. I made a promise to myself that I would make him talk to me in the morning and then drifted off to sleep myself, anchored to the sofa, the house, and the island by the man quietly snoring in my lap.

**OtO**

**a/n**

Uh...sorry about the wait. Hope it was worth it. I'm back on a regular writing schedule now so expect an update every other week.

As always, thanks to suzspetals, sadtomatoFF and TheRainGirl4 for reading, editing, and just being awesome. And to Moi for shouty-capping me into updating. ;) Super special thanks to The Perv Pack's Smut Shack for rec'ing and reviewing-means the world to me, ladies. And thank you to everyone who has taken a minute to leave me a review.

And now...I'm off to Forks! I'll be sure to stand in the forest and scream "THIS IS THE SKIN OF A KILLER!" and "AS IF YOU COULD OUTRUN ME!" and of course "ANIMAL ATTACK!" over and over. Because, really, why else would you go to Forks?

xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

"One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple." -Jack Kerouac, _The Dharma Bums_

**OtO**

The sun was just starting to stream in through the cracks in the old storm shutters when Edward startled awake, coughing and sputtering blood out of his nose.

"Sit up, sit up," I said groggily but urgently, pushing him off of me.

"I had a bad dream."

I gingerly held a towel up to his nose to try and catch some of the blood.

"Don't choke," I told him, rubbing circles on his back while he tried to catch his breath. The bleeding slowed to a trickle and he leaned back against the couch, taking as deep a breath as he could before he started coughing again.

"I really think you need to go to the doctor, Edward. You can't breathe; you probably have internal bruising or a broken rib or something. What the hell happened last night?"

"Got into a fight with someone bigger than me. Couple of times. I believe you were there for the last one."

I sighed. "Yeah, I believe I was. Am I going to have to drag you to the doctor?"

"Probably. Not right now, though, right?"

"No, not right now," I answered him.

"I'm sorry, Carlisle."

**OtO**

The gulls were swooping low over the waves as I cast my line back out into the surf. I already had a cooler full of croaker, spot, and a few flounder but I could see a school of dolphin in the breakers right past a sandbar and I was determined to catch one for dinner. It wasn't even noon and I could feel my bare shoulders starting to redden under the hot June sun. Dropping the rod into a holder buried into the sand, I sat down next to the cooler and opened another beer. I had no idea how many I'd had; I lost count right around the time I stopped worrying about Edward.

I had situated him in bed so that he was sitting up but still as comfortable as possible, concerned he would start bleeding again and drown in his own blood. He fell right back asleep but I was completely out of my mind with worry and regret and something else I couldn't even describe. Something that was starting to bubble up into the pit of my stomach and threatened to poison me as sure as I was standing there watching him sleep uncomfortably.

I threw beer and bait into a cooler and grabbed a couple of fishing rods as I hurried out the door, suddenly suffocated by everything in that damn house. I didn't calm down until I was up to my knees in cold seawater with two lines in the surf and enough distance from the house that I could pretend like it wasn't just 500 yards behind me.

I guess it was an improvement. Usually when I ran it took me getting across the bridge and well past Edenton before my vision cleared and I could breath normally again. I was trying for him but I was pretty sure it was going to end up killing one of us.

So I just drank and caught croaker and eventually talked to the horses when they wandered down to the water, trying to escape the heat and black flies. The school of dolphin swam on and I reeled in both lines but didn't move from my spot in the sand. I think for once I wanted him to come find me and try to put _me _back together. It was selfish, but at that point I really didn't care.

I sat and finished the rest of the beer as the sun passed overhead and then started to dip towards the Sound. Despite my initial resolve I started to worry about Edward and finally stood up, gathered my things, and headed back to the house. As I climbed over the dune I could hear piano music drifting through the open windows so I knew he was still alive. He was playing something I'd never heard before; it was haunting and sad and caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I knew he heard when I put the cooler on the table by the spigot outside because the notes faltered for a second before resuming their sad story. I cleaned the fish and tossed the heads and guts to the cats that had surrounded me before I headed inside.

He stopped playing when the screen door smacked shut but didn't turn around to face me or say anything. I put the fish in the refrigerator and went to sit next to him on the piano bench.

"You're drunk," he said softly.

"A little bit, yeah."

"I woke up and figured you were gone."

"My car is still out there."

"I didn't look. I didn't want you to be gone."

"I said I wasn't leaving. I think I wanted to, though. I don't anymore."

"Can we fix this?"

I didn't have an answer for that. When I didn't respond he started playing again, but this time the music wasn't sad. It reminded me of the tides, the ebb and flow of the water surrounding us, and I realized then that Edward was the sun to my moon. He was constant and bright and burned with so much force that he had the ability to alter everything about my life. Even though we seemed to be constantly at odds with each other, it was glaringly apparent that we couldn't survive on our own.

"We can. At least I think we can. Either way, I'm willing to fight for it, Edward. But no more neap tides."

"No more neap tides," he repeated, the faintest hint of a smile on his beautiful, battered face.

"We need to talk about what happened last night. And I think you probably still need to go to the doctor. But I'm tired and don't feel like doing anything except eating and going back to bed."

"I think that sounds like a pretty good plan," he replied. "I promise to go to the doctor tomorrow without too much resistance if you promise to make me talk about things. Don't let me drink or fight or fuck my way out of it, okay?"

"Meet me halfway and you've got a deal."

He smiled and kissed me, tentatively at first but when I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer he opened himself up to me. I realized how much I had missed him over the last twelve hours and hated myself again for ever leaving him alone. I pulled him even closer to me and buried myself in him, crawling into his lap and wrapping my arms around him.

"Right back to where we started," he murmured into my neck.

**OtO**

"How are you feeling?" I asked him. We were sitting on the couch, listening to harness racing in Elizabeth City on the radio, both full of fish and potatoes and corn. It always amazed me how food just showed up on his doorstep. I never saw anyone drop it off, but you could always count on having enough to make a meal most days.

"Well, my head hurts pretty damn bad. But it's a little easier to breathe. The whiskey helps." He turned and leaned back against the arm of the sofa, stretching his legs out and shoving his feet into my lap.

"Maybe you don't have a broken rib after all," I said as I began to absently rub circles on the bottom of his foot.

"I promised I would go to the doctor. What's tomorrow?" he asked.

"Thursday," I told him.

"Dr. Wright will be down here from Jarvisburg, which is good. There was no way I was going to let you get me into your car _and _go see a doctor. I hate that car about as much as I hate the doctor."

"You are such an asshole."

"Yeah, but I'm your asshole. And I'm easily swayed by peer pressure and bribery," he said, smiling. He closed his eyes and slid further down the couch, humming with pleasure as my hand traveled even farther up his leg.

"I had a really awful day," I reminded him.

"I know you did. But it doesn't have to stay awful," he responded as he leaned forward and put his hands on either side of my face. "I'm sorry and I love you. Let me make it up to you," he said, biting my bottom lip and thrusting up into my hand.

"Dammit, Edward. This is exactly the problem," I muttered as I grabbed him through his shorts and bit back. He hissed in pain; his lip was still split open and I could taste blood in my mouth as my teeth reopened the wound. He growled as anger flashed in his eyes. Pushing me onto my back, he popped the button off my pants and plunged his tongue into my mouth.

"Fuck you Carlisle. I hate feeling like this. I hate that my happiness depends on you," he said as he leaned back to take a breath.

"Exactly. You have to always be in control, don't you? The problem is you're so goddamn out of control that no one else can keep up with you. I can't win." I pushed him off of me and stood up, kicking the couch for good measure. I turned towards the back door, my heart racing and vision spotty as anger coursed through me. I'd had enough of his temper, his mood changes, his inability to talk about anything that made him slightly uncomfortable.

"DON'T FUCKING WALK AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!" Edward roared as I reached for the doorknob.

I stopped and turned around slowly to face him. There were tears streaming down his face but his eyes were still filled with fury, his jaw clenched and his fists balled up at his sides. My shoulders sagged as the fight in me went away as quickly as it had come. We stared at each for what felt like an eternity before he finally gave up being angry too, collapsing to the floor and hanging his head in his arms.

"This has to stop," I said softly as I turned and walked out the door.

**A/N**

**Neap tide**: A tide in which the difference between high and low tide is the least. Neap tides occur twice a month when the Sun and Moon are at right angles to the Earth. When this is the case, their total gravitational pull on the Earth's water is weakened because it comes from two different directions.

Thank you for everything, Suz.

Ok, so I've realized I can't keep on a regular posting schedule. This story has just become very, very personal and it's incredibly hard for me to write. But I'm slogging through my emotions and I will finish it. Please have faith in that; I owe it to many people and it's very important to me that I tell this story the way it deserves to be told.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. See you soon. xo **  
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	5. Chapter 5

"Life must be rich and full of loving-it's no good otherwise, no good at all, for anyone." –Jack Kerouac, _Selected Letters, 1940-1956_

**OtO**

There were two times in my life up until that night when I had to make a decision that would drastically change the path I was headed down. The first was in the shadows of the buildings on Poindexter Street so many years ago when I pulled Edward to me and kissed him, not sure if he would kiss me back or punch me. The second was the morning just a few months ago when I woke up, suddenly struck with the overwhelmingly clear knowledge that I had to come back. There was no question in my mind that I needed to be here on this island. I think at the time I was confused as to the capacity in which Edward needed me. But sitting out under the waning crescent moon, listening to the cicadas chirp and wondering if he was still slumped on the floor inside, I realized that it wasn't about him needing me or me needing him. It was about us needing each other.

He was right; depending on each other for happiness was a battle that would kill us both. When I let go of that responsibility it seemed very clear that maybe we could make it work. I wasn't going to sit by and watch him self-destruct, but maybe if he didn't feel pressured by me to be whatever kind of perfect existed in his fucked up mind we could stop trying to be right for each other and just work on being right for ourselves.

So with a slightly skewed sense of hope, I stood up off the sagging stairs and went back inside for him. He was still slouched on the floor by the bedroom door, his body shaking every time he drew a breath. I could hear the rattling in his chest as he inhaled and then exhaled and all of the fight and anger and bitterness rushed out of me as I dropped to the floor beside him. He was so, so broken and at that moment all I wanted was to make him better.

"Baby, I'm sorry," I whispered as I cupped his face in my hands and lifted his head so that I could see his eyes. They were empty as he squeezed them shut tight in pain, trying to catch his breath.

"It's ok," he whispered back hoarsely. "I'm done. I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired."

I pushed the hair off of his forehead and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the gash above his eye.

"I know. But I'm not leaving. I promise, Edward." I tried to keep my voice from shaking even though I was terrified.

"So what then? Pity?" he replied. He tried to take a deep breath but started coughing, spitting up blood as his body was racked with pain.

"No, not pity. Love? I don't know. What does it matter?"

"It doesn't, I guess," he said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He sounded clearer after the coughing spell and the noise in his chest was quieter. I stood up and went to retrieve a wet cloth from the kitchen. Wiping the blood and sweat from this face, I helped him stand and we made our way into the bedroom where I got him out of his clothes and into bed. Once he was situated, I crawled in next to him and he wrapped his body around me, linking his fingers through mine as I pulled him even closer and held him as tightly as I could.

**OtO**

The heat woke me the next morning. Edward hadn't moved in the night and was still draped heavily across my body, but he was sleeping soundly and the noise in his chest was gone. I started to slip out from underneath of him, but he tightened his grip on me and sighed contentedly. I fell back onto the pillow and started running my fingers through his sweaty hair as he smiled and relaxed back into a deep sleep.

I began to talk to him in a quiet whisper, remembering days on the beach, dances and parties, fast Banker ponies and friends that we'd made. I told him about things that had happened in Chapel Hill; the crazy cases I had seen come into the clinic, the three-legged dog who hung around outside of my little house there, how much I missed him when the honeysuckle bloomed and made me think of the wild vines that grew up the side his mother's porch. I talked about my students and the other professors and how I didn't think I would miss it when I didn't go back in August. I told him I figured the animals on the island could probably use a somewhat decent doctor to stitch them up and vaccinate them and that his little family alone would probably keep me in good business. And then I just stopped talking and listened to his soft snores and the purring cats who were sharing our bed and the rumbling in my stomach when I realized I was starving.

I tried to crawl out from under him again and was successful so I pulled on a pair of shorts and tip-toed into the kitchen. It was too hot to cook so I started cutting up tomatoes, cucumbers and onions, pulled cold fish out of the refrigerator and cut up a cantaloupe that had been left on the porch. I was slicing through a pan of leftover cornbread when Edward shuffled out of the bedroom. He was wearing only his boxers and his hair was sticking up on end all over the place. He was covered in bruises and spots of dried blood and had at least two days worth of unshaven scruff covering the sharp angles of his jaw. There was a look of confusion on his face like he'd just woken up from a bad dream or a five-day drunk and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Why are you laughing at me?" he asked, smiling as he scratched his belly.

"You're a mess," I replied, shaking my head. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, starving," he said as he walked over. He surprised me with a hug, burying his face in the crook of my neck and then kissing the spot right behind my ear that made me shiver. I squeezed back, happy for the connection.

"I moved some of your shit off the table so we could actually sit down if we wanted to," I told him as I took a step back and grabbed a plate. He just grinned kind of shyly at me as he balanced three bowls and a bottle of beer in his arms and walked over to sit down.

We ate in comfortable silence. I only broke it once to tell him that allowing the cat to sit on the table and eat off his plate would probably give his mother a stroke if she were here. He just shrugged and tossed a piece of fish to the gray-striped tomcat as he linked his bare feet around my ankles under the table. We finished eating, unhurried, content with each other's company and content with whatever agreement it was we reached last night. I wasn't sure exactly what that agreement was and I don't think he was either, but the air around us seemed lighter.

"So you're not going back?" he asked suddenly. I didn't realize he had been listening to me earlier; he seemed deep in sleep, but I should have known better than to think my words were just ending up lost in his dreams.

"No, I don't think I am. Actually, I know I'm not. You're my home and that's where I want to be," I told him, startling myself with my honesty. He didn't respond, just smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles and leaned back in his chair. He nodded his head slowly as he absently drew circles into the old pine-topped table with his finger and let my decision wash over him.

"I'm glad," he finally responded. And that was that. We were moving forward despite ourselves. I was thrilled, overwhelmed with happiness and relief and scared shitless.

"Me too. Really and truly," I said. "So are you planning on ever showering again? I feel like that might help improve your outlook on a life a little."

"I'm kinda gross, huh?" he laughed. "Yeah, I guess. But only if you join me," he said more soberly, looking at me with just the corner of his mouth turned up into the slightest grin. I was done denying and done over-thinking, so I just stood up and reached my hand out to him. He grasped it and squeezed hard, letting me lead him into the bathroom.

The shower inside was rarely ever used during the summer; no one wanted a hot shower and the one on the side of the house was more convenient anyway. But it wasn't private and I suddenly needed Edward in a way that required four walls and no prying eyes. I reached in and turned the water on, letting it warm up as I pulled him to me and kissed him.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around my waist, his hands resting on my ass as he pulled me even closer. His tongue slipping into my mouth was my undoing; I was suddenly ravenous for anything he would give me. I reached down and slipped my hand under the waistband of his boxers, taking his hot erection in my hands as the air steamed up around us. He thrust up with a whimper as I tightened my hold on him and twisted my hand around the head of his cock, already slick with pre-cum. He broke the kiss and collapsed against me as I continued to stroke him, shuddering at the contact that we had both been missing and craving so badly. I used my other hand to undo my shorts; as soon as I wriggled out of them his hands were on me, mimicking my own. We ground against each other, sweaty, needy, and frantic as we bit and kissed and sucked whatever skin we could come in contact with.

He dropped to his knees taking me in his mouth and I fell back against the sink, overwhelmed with my desire and lust and love for him. He took my entire shaft into his mouth; I hit the back of his throat as he reached up and cupped my balls before moving his hand even further back and running his fingers along the length of my crack. He licked and sucked and grazed me with his teeth, causing me to buck wildly into his mouth. My dick started to twitch and he grinned around it before swallowing me whole one last time. I saw stars as my orgasm overtook me, leaving me a shaking mess as he swallowed and then licked his way back up my cock.

He stood then and kissed me; I tasted myself on him and my dick started to stir again. His erection was pressed tight against my stomach as I started to lower myself to return his favor. I didn't waste any time, taking his entire length into my mouth and sucking hard as he gasped and thrust into my mouth. He fell forward and rested his hands on the edge of the sink, stabilizing himself as I flattened my tongue against him and slowly worked up to the head of his cock.

Twisting and pulling with one hand, I slid back down with my mouth, slow enough to make him impatiently shove his hips towards me. My intent wasn't to tease him, though, so I braced myself by wrapping one arm around his waist and looked up at him, silently giving him permission to start fucking my mouth. He growled and thrust into me; I almost gagged but relaxed enough for him to slide what seemed like halfway down my throat. He stilled for a split second to make sure I was ok and then began to rock back and forth again as I used my free hand to tease his entrance. I felt him start to throb in my mouth and slipped one and then two slick fingers into him, curling up and brushing against his prostate just twice before he exploded with a groan.

When he began to go soft I dropped him and stood up, our mouths crashing against each other with so much need and force that he fell back against the wall. He broke the kiss and we stood holding onto each other, our skin slick with sweat and our chests heaving with exertion. He began to cough then and I pulled away from him as he doubled over and tried to catch his breath.

"Sit, sit Edward," I told him. He slid down the wall and continued to cough with his head between his knees. Drops of red started to fall onto the bathmat below before he finally stopped and took a shuddering breath. My eyes locked onto the blood staining the white rug as he continued to catch his breath. It wasn't right, even if he did have a broken rib or some kind of internal bruising. When I finally looked back up at him, he avoided my gaze, wiping his mouth as he pulled himself up by the towel rack.

"I'm ok," he wheezed, running his hands through his hair. "I'm ok." He leaned down and offered me his hand, pulling me up so that I was standing face to face with him again. He kissed me softly; his lips tasted like copper and salt and I still had no words for any of what had just happened. He pulled me into the shower and we silently washed each other, kissing and loving and healing under the spray of lukewarm water. When we were finished, we dried each other off and made our way back into our bed, ignoring the heat and wrapping ourselves around each other before we both drifted back to sleep.

**OtO**

The second time I woke up it was to someone pounding on the door. I groaned and rolled out of Edward's arms, pulling on a pair of shorts and stumbling my way towards the front of the house.

"Christ, I'm coming," I muttered as I tripped over a stack of books and stepped on a cat's tail, sending him flying out an open window. I finally made it to the front door and pulled it open, coming face to face with Betty Meads who looked like she was about to blow a gasket.

"Carlisle Cullen!" she exclaimed. "I don't know what the two of you have goin' on over here but we just got down from Elizabeth City and there's a horse under our house. A horse, Carlisle! Now I'm not spendin' all summer puttin' up with whatever it is you two are up to. I'm not!"

When she stopped to take a breath I jumped in. "Mrs. Meads, I'm sorry. I'll run over and collect the horse right now. We're fixin' to put up a fence so it won't be a problem again. As for anything else you might be referrin' to, I suggest that you mind your own damn business," I told her, laying on the accent and smiling as I shoved past her and slammed the door shut behind me.

She hurried after me, still screeching about how the cats better not kill her chickens and she better not see any odd comings and goings in the middle of the night. I ignored her and whistled for Ripper, who immediately trotted out from under the house with a snort and shake of his head.

"Carlisle, I am not kidding! I will call Sheriff Basnight just as sure as I'm standin' here, you mark my words! I know the two of you are up to no good. I've seen Lester Jennings leave outta there after carrying in crates of what I just know were liquor," she continued as I tossed a lead rope over the horse's neck and started to lead him back home. "And furthermore, don't think that you have anyone fooled. You and that Masen boy are living in sin. Sin! And if I have anything to say about it-"

"That's enough!" I snapped at her. "It is none of your goddamn business and I don't give two flying shits what you have to say about it. I can assure you that these horses will not set foot on your property again. Besides that, I have no other business with you."

"Well I have never," she huffed, her face a mixture of shock and disgust. She narrowed her eyes at me, but kept her mouth shut as she turned and headed back towards her house.

I watched her go for a moment before turning back to Ripper and leading him to the other side of our house. Digging through a bucket of junk sitting on the corner of the porch, I found two halters and tied him and Whistle up to the railing. I filled a bucket with water and gave them both some grain before collapsing onto the stairs. I was absolutely fucking exhausted. The last thing I needed to deal with was that woman and her nosy meddling just proved to me that people knew Edward and I were more than just good friends. I was terrified of what that would mean for us in the future, especially once it became apparent that I wasn't leaving anytime soon. There were far more Betty Meads in the world than there were people who were accepting or at the very least willing to turn a blind eye.

"Jesus Christ," Edward said from behind me, startling the shit out of me. "I thought that old bitch would never leave." He sat down next to me and began to slice an apple, tossing the pieces to the horses.

"We need to be careful. Did you hear her? She threatened to call the sheriff."

Edward just snorted and rolled his eyes. "It's like this every summer with her. She's always up in arms about some silly thing or another. Harvey Basnight is quite happy with the whiskey he gets for a very, very discounted price. I don't think he's going to be showing up here to bother me anytime soon."

"Well, that may be. But if enough people complain about us living here in sin, as Betty so eloquently put it, we might have bigger things to worry about."

"Like what? Someone burning a cross in the yard or giving us dirty looks when we go buy groceries? I could care less, Carlisle. Those people aren't worth the time it takes to worry about them."

"Well, that's a very idyllic world view."

He shrugged and smiled up at me. "Maybe. I believe I'll go for a ride," he said, standing up and stretching. He grabbed two bridles off of a hook by the door and tossed one at me as he hopped over the porch and untied Ripper from the railing. I followed him, bridling Whistle and swinging my leg over him as Edward turned towards the ridge. Urging my horse into a trot, we caught up to them and crossed the road together, heading to the sand dunes in front of us.

Jockey's Ridge was named for the horse races that used to take place down its steep slopes, but you rarely saw that anymore. When the island was still a wild and largely uninhabited place, Bankers use to hobble mules and tie a lantern to their necks, walking them up and down the crest of the hill, mimicking a ship at sea. Weary ship captains would head towards the light, not realizing that they were actually sailing straight to land and wreck their vessels on the shallow, treacherous shoals right off the coast. The Bankers would plunder the wreck for anything of value and many of the houses on the island were built with wood salvaged from those shipwrecks, including the one I had been sleeping in for the last month. In recent years, the dune had become a destination for tourists and locals; a place to fly a kite, watch the sun set over the Sound, steal a first kiss. There were smaller ridges surrounding it with names like Engagement Hill, Pin Hill, and Run Hill and beyond them a flat stretch of land where the first hotel was built on the island after the Civil War.

As we began our ascent up the big dune, the horses dug their bare feet into the soft sand and huffed their way up diagonally until we reached the peak. From there you could see clear to Bodie Island to the south and Kill Devil Hills to the north. In front of us was the Sound and beyond that the mainland, while behind us stretched the Atlantic. We were alone at the top of the world, on an island at the center of the universe. I looked over to Edward, who was surveying the view around him, completely at home surrounded on all four sides by the landscape that was so much a part of his soul. The setting sun back-lit his silhouette, causing it to look like he was on fire as his painted horse pawed and snorted, anxious to keep moving, moving, moving. He checked the reins several times before he looked at me with a slight nod and then leaned forward, silently granting his horse permission to race down the embankment towards the fresh water ponds below us.

_Go_ I whispered to Whistle and we took off after them.

**a/n**

**Thank you Suz. I couldn't do this without you. I couldn't do a lot of things without you, tbh. **

**If any of the local history or terms trip you up, please let me know. I didn't want to explain it to death in the story, but I also want it to be clear. Hit me up with a PM or on twitter and we can chat. Also, I'm using very common local surnames but the characters are totally a product of my imagination; the secondary characters are not based on specific people. Just throwin' that out there in case anyone is like "OMG my grandma's name was Betty Meads and she was NOT a bitch!" ;) **

**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Wishing everyone a happy holiday (or a happy end of December if you don't celebrate). Until next time. xo **


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